


Tears

by SarcasticSmiler



Series: Song fics from the radio on the drive to work [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bilbo Baggins Angst, F/M, Fíli Angst, Gen, M/M, Songfic, Thorin is not nice in this, and it won't be a particularly satisfying comfort, elements of ptsd, the bagginshield is a past relationship, the fiki unrequited, the goldsickness didn't completely leave, there will be very little comfort, this is not designed to be a happy fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSmiler/pseuds/SarcasticSmiler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic inspired by Clean Bandit - 'Tears' ft. Louisa Johnson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Tears](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dc-nyGo0aC8)
> 
> I got two ideas when this song came on the radio, so I've kinda merged them.

 

Bilbo glared at the dark spot on the earth beneath his fingers. It had been six months since he’d returned to the Shire, since he’d picked up the tattered remains of his old life. He’d made a promise to himself that’d he’d get over that obstinate, confounded dwarf king, just turn to a new page and get on with his life, forever banished from Erebor…and barely accepted back in the Shire.

A second dark spot joined the first, mocking him.

With a frustrated growl, Bilbo scrubbed at his face, earth smearing over his cheeks as he wiped away the tears.

He’d tried, he’d tried _so hard_ to be what Thorin wanted, what he needed. But it was all for naught. Thorin didn’t want him, he didn’t need him, or love him. That was made abundantly clear to him when a _rock_ was deemed more important and his banishment had remained even after the battle finally ended.

Breathing deeply to compose himself, Bilbo turned his face to the sun, ignoring the odd hitch to his breaths as he fought the urge to cry again. He’d had enough of tears, he’d cried a veritable river of them, and now he was done. He couldn’t change what had come to pass, but he could choose what his future would be.

...if only he could just stop with all the blasted crying!

-x-

Fíli lay on his bed, curled up on his side beneath the furs, staring blankly at the dying flames in the fireplace. Tears rolled from his eyes, soaking into his pillow, but he paid it no heed.

He ached, body and soul, like a blade had torn through his chest and the wound left to fester.

His brother.

His One.

…though now his nothing.              

Kíli had been given permission to court the Mirkwood elf, permission to marry her if all went well with the courtship.

Thorin had smiled and congratulated the pair, offering his blessings before the entire court.

Fíli had stood frozen beside the throne, circlet heavy and uncomfortable upon his brow, as his world crumbled around him. He’d thought what Kíli had with Tauriel was a mere fleeting fancy. Clearly he’d been wrong, so very, very wrong. His brother’s words, proclaiming Tauriel to be his One, had hit Fíli with all the grace and subtly of a Warhammer, leaving him breathless and broken.

It was only through the ingrained stubbornness of his line that he’d made it through the rest of the day, though as the door to his chamber closed behind him, his legs finally gave out and he dropped to the floor. A pained whimper escaping his throat as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, trying desperately to hold back the sobs burning his chest even as tears rolled down his cheeks.

He couldn’t believe what had happened, but as his thoughts churned, he realised he could.

It all made a painful kind of sense.

Thorin _knew_ that Kíli was his One, he’d known for decades, he was the _only_ one who knew after a young, naïve Fíli had gone to him for help. He had told Fíli that Kíli was too young for such things, told him to wait till he was older, to be a good brother till the time was right.

But he had never been old enough, the timing never right, not according to Thorin, and now Fíli was beginning to realise why.

A bitter laugh escaped his chest, at least he knew what his uncle thought of him now. Clearly he wasn’t good enough for his brother, but an _elf_ , a race Thorin hated more than any other, _she_ was good enough.

Standing on shaky legs, Fíli stumbled to his bed, tearing off his clothes as he went. Crawling under the covers and furs, he curled up facing the fire, unmindful to the tears rolling unchecked from his eyes.

-x-

A clap of thunder jolted Bilbo awake, Thorin’s name upon his lips. His breathing harsh and jagged in the quiet of Bag End, Bilbo turned to the window, watching the rain run down the pane was oddly soothing to his frayed nerves.

“You left me, banished me,” he murmured into the still of the night, “So _leave me alone._ ”

Hands fisting in his quilt, Bilbo slumped back against his pillows, a tired sigh escaping his lips as the phantoms from his nightmares slowly faded.

“I’m getting on with my life, leave me be.”

-x-

The feast was in full swing around him, but Fíli felt numb to it all. He’d taken to hiding behind the great stone pillars, nursing a tankard of ale, after Thorin had thrown one too many dwarrowdams in his path, addressing him with pointed words and a sharp smile.

“Fíli!”

Fíli looked up as Kíli flung a brotherly arm around his shoulders, the pain in his chest sparking to life at the touch. His brother looked happy, bright eyed and grinning, a healthy flush to his cheeks.

“Kíli,” Fíli nodded in greeting, lifting his tankard to his lips.

“Why are you hiding, brother?”

“Needed a rest from all of that lot,” he answered, waving vaguely over his shoulder to the crowds in the hall.

“Oh, well no time for that. Thorin’s looking for you, come on.”

Fíli blinked dumbly at his brother as Kíli dragged him from his hiding place and through the press of bodies.

“Found him, uncle,” Kíli grinned at Thorin, practically shoving Fíli before him, only to disappear back into the crowds to find Tauriel.

“Fíli,” the disapproving tone underlying Thorin’s greeting was not lost on Fíli.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed his head slightly.

“I’ve someone who’d like to make your acquaintance,” Thorin said, gesturing to the shrewd looking dwarrow standing beside him and the young looking dwarrowdam with him, wearing what seemed to be an entire mines worth of gems on her person.

Fíli gritted his teeth, forcing a smile to his lips as he counted down the moments until he could slip away and disappear.

-x-

An almighty metallic _crash_ ripped through the air and Bilbo’s breath froze in his lungs, his heart thundering in his ears, as his body chilled and sweat beaded at his temples. Spinning on his heel towards the sound, he lost his balance on the loose gravelly earth of Hobbiton’s Market Square. His mouth opened on a silent cry as he fell, angry words and furious, blazing blue eyes flashing through his mind.

He hit the ground with an _oof_ , and lay there for a moment, staring wide eyed and shivering at the cloudless, blue sky.

Slowly, so very slowly, the harsh phantom sounds of battle faded into the softer sounds of the market.

Hands reached down to help him back to his feet and faunts dashed about to gather his spilled purchases, as various hobbits clucked their tongues and tutted about the ills of adventures, muttering about ‘Mad Baggins’, even as they ushered him out of the main body of the crowd to sit him down at a nearby stall, a cup of tea and plate of biscuits miraculous appearing at his side in true hobbit fashion.

Bilbo couldn’t help but let out a huffed chuckle at their antics. They might think him thoroughly addled for running off with a bunch of gruff dwarves, but that wouldn’t stop them from helping him if he needed it. He was still one of their own after all, and a hobbit wouldn’t leave another in need if they could help it.

-x-

“…Fíli’s betrothed.”

Fíli stumbled to an abrupt halt at the words coming from the Royal Family’s dining hall.

Betrothed?

Dread settled like a hard knot in his stomach when he finally got his feet working again.

“I didn’t even know Fíli was courting,” Kíli’s pleasantly surprised voice made the constant ache in his chest give a particularly uncomfortable throb. “Seems my brother has been keeping you a secret, My Lady Rúna.”

Rúna? For a moment Fíli couldn’t place the name, but then he remembered. An image of too many gems came to mind, she was one of the dwarrowdams from the feast, the one whose father Thorin had had a rather in depth conversation with about the quality and quantity of his mines.

Entering the hall Fíli’s eyes landed on the group of three dwarrow and an elf. Tauriel was the first to spot him, tapping Kíli’s shoulder.

“Brother!” Kíli beamed at him, “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?”

Fíli’s eyes slipped from his brother to meet Thorin’s harsh stare and Rúna’s quietly expectant gaze. His stomach lurched at the new braid in her hair, tied off with a golden bead engraved with his crest.

“I did not wish to distract you from your own courtship with such news,” Fíli answered, voice carefully neutral and expression blank.

“Well that was stupid,” Kíli huffed, still grinning. “You should come to the tavern tonight, we can celebrate with the rest of the Company.”

Just as he opened his mouth to agree, he’d not seen the Company in months, Thorin interrupted, “I’m afraid your brother will be unable to join you, Kíli, I require his presence here.”

“Spoil sport,” Kíli turned to the King, rolling his eyes at the answer he’d been given.

Fíli watched as Thorin’s gaze noticeably softened as it rested on his youngest nephew. His only nephew, Fíli was coming to believe as more time passed and he was used as nothing more than a pawn to get what the King wanted.

Dinner was a decidedly uncomfortable affair, with Kíli’s chattering filling the hall, Fíli merely pushed his food around his plate, the knot in his stomach not allowing him to eat. The tension rose, slow but surely, once Kíli and Tauriel had finished. Rising from their seats, with Thorin’s indulgent permission, they headed for the door and an evening at the tavern.

“I’ll bring you back a pint, brother,” Kíli threw over his shoulder, “then we can toast your good fortune later.”

In the following silence, Rúna shifted uneasily, “The hour grows late, I think it’s time for me to leave also.”

Rising from the table, Fíli did as was expected of him, bowing over Rúna’s hand, kissing the back of her ring covered fingers, “Good night, My Lady.”

“Good night, Your Highness,” Rúna curtseyed first to Fíli, then to Thorin, “Your Majesty.”

At Thorin’s dismissive wave, she left the hall, the doors falling shut with a quite _snick_ behind her.

“She will make a good wife, a suitable consort,” Thorin casually commented, sending sparks of anger up Fíli’s spine.

“Why, Thorin?” he asked, barely keeping his teeth from grinding together.

“That is not for you to question.”

“Not for me to question? You’re marrying me off, without even _telling_ _me_ beforehand, and it’s not for me to _question_?” Fíli voice rose almost to a shout as he shoved away from the table completely.

Thorin was beside him in a mere moment, thick fingers wrapping around his bicep, holding him still in a harsh grip, “I am your _King_ ,” he growled, “You will do as I say.”

“But you’re making me marry when we both know I have a One,” Fíli practically hissed, struggling to escape from Thorin’s grip only to find it tightening.

“You are an Heir of Durin, it is your _duty_ to continue our Line. This _ridiculous_ notion of a One is of no importance. You _will_ marry that dam, and you _will_ fuck her and get her round with child.”

“But…”

“Your brother _does not want you_ ,” Thorin gave him a hard shake to accompany the words, “He has _left_ you, your strange childhood closeness naught but a distant memory.”

Fíli stared at the King.

Thorin scoffed at the pain clear on Fíli’s face, releasing him abruptly and ignoring him as he stumbled to keep his balance, “Get out.”

Turning on his heel, Fíli marched from the room, arm throbbing from Thorin’s hold. He knew he’d likely have bruises come morning.

Slamming the door to his chambers closed, Fíli collapsed in the chair by the hearth, eyes glittering with unshed tears. Thorin couldn’t be completely right, surely, his brother hadn’t left him, not entirely. Only that evening he’d said he’d be back and they’d share a toast together.

Assured in his belief in his brother, Fíli settled in, watching the dancing flames as he waited for Kíli’s knock.

When it came, the knock startled him. Fíli blinked in confusion at what were now dulling embers in the fireplace. Pushing himself from his chair, Fíli answered his door, his smile dying when he found one of the Court’s scribes on the other side and not his brother.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, “Lord Balin has sent me to retrieve you as the morning meetings will be beginning soon.”

Fíli stared almost dumbly at the scribe.

Morning.

Fíli blinked.

It was morning.

A strange feeling of disconnect filled his being.

Kíli hadn’t come.

-x-X-x-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does contain what could technically be deemed borderline dub-con.

Bilbo smiled as he watched the dancers twirl beneath the Party Tree, the setting sun casting them in a golden glow. He watched Drogo and Primula, love radiating from them as they spun in the middle of it all, flower crowns clinging valiantly to their curls as they spun faster and faster to the music. Joyous laughter spilling from their lips.

Their love was comforting and simple, it was a balm to the soul, like a warm cup of tea on a rainy day.

Bilbo’s smile turned bittersweet.

If only all love could be so easy.

-x-

An awkward, heavy silence fell over them once the doors closed, leaving them alone. Fíli resisted the urge to scratch at his scalp, the new marriage braid tugging uncomfortably. Dread bubbled in his stomach at the sight of his bed, the feeling breaking through the grey fog that had become his entire existence.

“Here, drink this,” Rúna sighed, handing him a vial of cloudy liquid.

“What is it?” he asked, looking to his new wife.

“Just something to help us.”

“Help?” Fíli frowned.

“Just drink it, Fíli, the quicker we get started the quicker we can be finished with it all,” she said, resignation clear in her tone.

The liquid left a bitter taste on the tongue, making Fíli grimace.

“You might as well get undressed while we wait for it to take effect,” Rúna suggested, already tugging at laces of her dress.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Fíli murmured, swallowing down bile as the concoction began to work.

“We have no choice,” Rúna said softly, almost sympathetically, as she came to stand before him clad only in her shift. “Come.”

With a heavy heart Fíli allowed her to undress him and lead him to the bed. The concoction had hardened him almost to the point of pain by the time he finally settled between Rúna’s thighs. He’d always imagined his first time would be with his beloved brother, not rutting mindlessly into a body that was too soft, with a pleasure not of his own making.

Rúna said not a word about the tear that slipped down his cheek, and he made no comment on the name that slipped from her lips, a name that was not his own.

Fíli groaned unhappily at the realisation that he had not softened at all, falling to the side he lay on his back watching the play of light and shadows flicking across the ceiling. He jolted in surprise when Rúna moved to straddle him, clearly unhappy with the situation even as she eased him back inside her body.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning as her hips rocked against him.

“There’s no point in letting it go to waste,” Rúna pointed out, “The sooner I become pregnant, the sooner we can stop this and just get on with our lives.”

Fíli couldn’t argue with her reasoning and so he lay back, a blank numbness spreading through his mind and body, as he let her take what she wanted from him.

-x-

The pages mocked him with their blankness, the ink in his quill long since dried. Taking a sip of tea, Bilbo grimaced to find it cold. He was meant to be writing the tale of his adventure, of the Quest for Erebor and everything it entailed. He thought it would help, to pour the words upon the pages, drawing them from his mind in an attempt to heal, like drawing poison from a wound.

With a sigh he lay his quill on the desk and retreated to the kitchen. While the kettle boiled, Bilbo gazed out of the window. It was a warm day, the sun was shining, and a gentle breeze stirred the air. Yet Bilbo felt cold and tired, muscles tight and knotted from the tension he found he couldn’t let go of. His eyes traced the curved lines of the window almost wishing they were more angular. Everything was soft here, rounded and flowing. He often found himself feeling almost homesick for something harder, more ridged, yet no less beautiful. His fingers absently traced diamonds in the small layer of dust on the windowsill before the hissing of the kettle brought him back to the present.

Frustrated with himself over his daydreaming, Bilbo swiped a hand through the designs in the dust. A stubborn expression surfaced as he bustled about to make tea before trudging back to his study, settling himself he plucked up the quill once more. The black ink glistened on its tip as he lowered it to the page and began to write.

_In a hole in the ground…_

-x-

Fíli stared at the empty horizon, eyes fixed on the spot his brother had disappeared. He ignored the impatient shuffling of his ever present guards; feeling hollow and alone, he had no more tears to shed.

A great feast had been thrown that night in celebration of the babe growing in Rúna’s belly. Thorin had taken the opportunity of so many gathered dwarves to announce the departure of his youngest sister-son, recently betrothed to Tauriel.

Fíli swallowed past the lump lodged in his throat at those words.

It had been decided by Thorin and his Council, in a meeting Fíli hadn’t been informed of, that Kíli would be the most suitable candidate to negotiate trade and other matters with the Woodland realm. Hearty slaps were delivered to his brother’s back in congratulations, as Kíli beamed with pride, Tauriel smiling softly beside him.

They were to leave that very night, a departure which had been planned for many weeks, and of which Fíli had no knowledge.

Fíli met the King’s eyes, unsurprised at the cold look he received in turn.

He couldn’t help but wonder when Thorin had become so cruel.

-x-

“Leave me!” Thorin growled, hands tearing at his hair as he stumbled through the mountainous piles of gold. “Will I never be free of your blasted condemnations?! Traitor! Thief! _Shire Rat_!”

The King fell to his knees, hands grasping at golden coins and glittering gems.

“Leave me,” he choked out throwing a misshapen goblet at the hobbit looking down at him in scorn.

-x-X-x-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this is now a three chapter fic, not the originally planned two. This is mainly because the next chapter time jumps quite a bit and it just didn't feel right to have it in the same chapter as this.
> 
> Don't ask where that end with Thorin came from because I honestly don't know, he just popped up when I was struggling to find a way to continue.  
> Also you've just read my first ever posted sex scene (at least wherein sex actually happens anyway) and I feel kinda horrible about what happened in it.
> 
> Oh and before I forget - with the whole Kili not turning up in the previous chapter, the reason for that, be it Kili forgetting, Thorin getting to him first, or something else, well its which ever hurts the most to be honest. So take your pick.
> 
> Up next - babies and an ending I'm not looking forward to writing.


End file.
